003

I cannot live. I cannot possibly live. Is this it? IS THIS IT? That's it? Until the day I die? Frustration and disappointment. Disappointment and frustration? Over and over and over and over. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. What did I do wrong? I mean, other than negating my feelings, dismissing my intuition and smothering any emotions that were trying to rise to the surface. Why did I make so many awful choices? What was the point of any of it? Why didn't I ever, at any point in time, while making these shitty decisions, why didn't I think I deserve better? Well, because I thought I didn't. I thought it's so much worse for so many other people - what's special about me that I should have it that much better? Well FUCK these other people. FUCK that shit. I don't fucking care how bad they have it. And who the fuck are these people anyway? Who are these imaginary people who have a hell of a life and they still smile and are oh so very kind? Fuck them. I never ever asked for anything I wanted. NEVER. Everything has been a fucking compromise where I was lucky to get 40% of what I wanted. I considered that a good deal. Now it's too late. I compromised myself and what I want so much that I no longer know what I want. I have fucking erased myself completely and totally. There is just a floating body going through the motions every day.

I question doing anything. Why do I do anything? What is the point? I hate doing pointless things and everything is pointless.

I cannot imagine myself ever being happy. I cannot imagine ever enjoying myself. This is just pure torture. Every day is the same. I am sick of being with my broken self, trying to figure out the pieces. Nothing fits to anything. It's just a bunch of rubble at this point, nothing else. I am so tired. So fucking tired. Here goes one minute, and another one and another one. And nothing ever changes. I go through the motions, and everything's the same.